Burned (36 page)

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Authors: Benedict Jacka

BOOK: Burned
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Being a diviner is all about being prepared.

I hadn’t expected to be attacked at the journeyman tests. At least, not specifically. But it had occurred to me a while ago that if Levistus or some other people on the Council wanted to make sure that my execution went through smoothly, then the most logical thing for them to do would be to arrest me before the resolution was due to pass. And given that journeyman tests are a matter of public record, then from their point of view, that was the best place to catch me. So when I’d decided to come here, I’d taken some time to consider avenues of escape. The lifts were the best way out but they were controlled by Council security, and I didn’t trust the Council. Which was why I’d brought the life ring.

Interesting thing about falling: it seems to be one of those things that short-circuits the higher brain functions. My life rings are small bands of metal and glass, imbued with an air magic spell that cuts your falling speed down to a comfortable ten feet per second. They’re very reliable, and they have to be, given what they’re used for. I’ve used life rings at least a dozen times before, and I know that they work. When I’d picked up this particular life ring yesterday, I’d taken the time to look into the futures in which I used it to make sure it’d still work. And just to be sure, while I’d been talking to Caldera, I’d checked yet again.

None of that made the drop any less terrifying.

Icy wind howled past as I fell, the coat Anne had given me flapping around my legs, the windows of Canary Wharf flashing past, flick-flick-flick. My stomach lurched in that weightless feeling, light and nauseated at the same time, but it had to fight to get my attention over the animal side of my brain which was screaming
oh God oh God you’re going to die you’re going to die
over and over again. My right hand clutched the life ring in a death grip; intellectually I knew that if I triggered it too soon the spell would run out while I was still in the air, but it took all my willpower not to. The street below grew closer and closer, cars and road and pavement growing larger with frightening speed. I could see the spot of road I was heading for and my mind was painting a vivid and horrible picture of my body splattering on to it like a watermelon hit by a sledgehammer. It takes a little over six seconds to fall seven hundred feet, and while it doesn’t exactly feel longer, I can say for a fact that you get an awful lot of sensory experience packed into that short time.

I hit the future in which I needed to activate the life ring, and my fist spasmed shut, crushing the item to fragments. Air magic leaped out and the impact of the deceleration felt like a powerful blow that didn’t stop spreading out over all of my body. My vision went red, pressure spiking inside me, then, as suddenly as it had come, it was receding and I was sinking down just above street level. I hit the centre of the road with both feet and went down to one knee, breathing hard.

There was the sound of brakes, followed by the noise of a car jerking to a stop. I looked up, and saw a black cab stopped a little way in front of me. The driver was clearly visible through the windscreen, and he was staring at me with his mouth open. I pulled myself to my feet, my legs shaky, and started to run.

It doesn’t look like it from below, but Canary Wharf is close to being an island: the old docks interlace the area with so many channels that it’s like a miniature peninsula. I knew that the only ways out of the area were west towards Westferry or east to Blackwall. West was closer. I ran along the edge of the road, girders flying by overhead, mentally checking off the laws I was breaking. Resisting arrest by legitimate agents of the Council: that was the first clause of the Concord. Dropping out of the sky in front of motorists broke the fourth. Hadn’t broken the second clause so far, since I hadn’t actually attacked any mages yet, but the day was still young—

Contact.
Two men appeared ahead, running towards me, one of them raising a hand to his ear. I changed direction instantly, running up the stairs into the Cabot Place shopping centre.

Pedestrians and shoppers jumped out of the way as I dashed through the mall. The men on my tail weren’t far behind, and from one future I glimpsed I was pretty sure at least one was a Keeper. I needed a way to lose them, and flicked though the futures ahead of me. Hiding in the shops – no. Outrunning – no. A sign appeared up ahead telling me that I was heading into Canary Wharf DLR station, and that gave me an idea. Just needed a train with the right timing …
there.
I changed direction and ran up a flight of stairs.

The station was crowded, men and women and children scattered across the platforms, carrying coats and shopping bags. A DLR train was sitting in the centre of the station, about to leave for Stratford. I ran up the platform, then slowed, deliberately hanging back a little to let my pursuers catch up. Glancing back, I saw them run up the stairs. I waited a couple of seconds to let them see me, then turned left and stepped on to the train.

I’d timed it very carefully. The doors began beeping, signalling that the train was about to leave. The two men pursuing me raced for the train and jumped on to it, but it was crowded and they lost sight of me. It was only for a few seconds, but it was enough. As the doors began to close, I stepped out of the train on to the platform on the other side; the doors shut behind me with a
thump
and I fell into step with the crowd, walking down the stairs back into the shopping centre. On the train the two men would be pushing their way through the crowds, searching for me; the next station was less than a minute away and it wouldn’t take them long to figure out what I’d done, but by then I’d be gone.

I moved through the shopping centre and left by the west exit, coming out on to a raised square paved with tiles that circled a flat, round fountain carved from grey stone. I kept searching the futures as I walked, looking into the possibilities in which I went back, tracking my pursuers. The Keepers were spreading out from Canary Wharf, trying to find me, but I was outside their radius now and moving faster than they could. As long as there weren’t …
shit.

I looked back over my shoulder to see Caldera about a hundred feet back. Our eyes met and she broke into a run.

I ran along the pavement of West India Avenue, tracking futures in my head.
How did she get down to ground level so fast? Oh right. Elemental mage.
Caldera must have gated nearby, and either she’d been vectored in by those two or she’d guessed which direction I was going in. Now I had a problem. I’m faster than Caldera, but not by much. I could lose her in a foot chase, but as soon as I did she’d just call in more backup. I needed to find a way to shake her, and it would have to be something extreme. Caldera might not be on the level of Landis or Vihaela, but she’s still a heavy hitter and more than a match for me. I looked ahead: we were coming up on Westferry Circus, and a plan jumped fully formed into my mind.
That could work.

I slowed down, conserving my strength. From behind I could sense Caldera getting closer; fifty feet, then forty. Westferry Circus opened up in front of me, a circular green surrounded by a busy road junction. I dodged a couple walking along the pavement to cross the road, then crossed again, heading for a long stone barrier that I knew had a drop on the other side.

Heavy footsteps and my precognition warned me. I jinked and doubled back as Caldera lunged, and she stumbled past and thudded into the stone. As she turned I vaulted up on to the barrier, taking a glance down at the drop on my right. Thirty feet down to paving stones, interrupted by the white light fixtures mounted on the sheer wall. Only a fraction of the last drop, but still enough to break a leg or an ankle. Beside the paving stones, a double-lane road disappeared into the darkness underneath the roundabout, cars passing back and forth.

Caldera glared at me. ‘Will you stop frigging running and just
talk
?’

‘Stop chasing me and you can talk as much as you want.’

‘Listen, right now I am one of
very
few people trying to help you,’ Caldera said. ‘You want to do this the easy way or the hard way?’

‘Hmm,’ I said. ‘Let me think.’ I crouched down, then before Caldera could react I hopped backwards off the barrier.

I twisted in mid-air, catching myself on the barrier edge then dropping down, with a clang on to one of the light fixtures. I lowered myself by my hands, smelling dust and car exhaust, feeling the grime under my fingers, then let myself fall again, kicking off from the wall; I hit the pavement, feeling the shock of pain from my feet and shoulder as I rolled.

Caldera hit the pavement behind me with a
wham
, going down to one knee with the impact before getting up. I could see cracks in the pavement under her boots. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘You are starting to piss me off.’

I ran into the tunnel. The road under Westferry Circus is a wide roundabout, roofed and walled in concrete, with pillars running along the ceiling. Cars and lorries zoomed by, but the pavement was empty; this was a place for vehicles, not people.

Caldera caught me up by one of the pillars, and again I dodged just as she lunged. She turned on me, hands by her sides. ‘All right, Alex,’ Caldera said. ‘I didn’t want to play it this way, but you aren’t going to be the first mage who’s made it come to this.’

‘Come to what? Wanting to stay alive?’

Caldera lunged, and again I slipped aside. ‘You’re getting slow,’ I said.

I could tell from Caldera’s face that she was angry.
Good.
She came in again, slower this time, pacing forward with hands spread. She was going to try to grapple and turn this into a wrestling match, and I knew that if she did, I’d lose. Caldera grabbed at me, first once, then again and again. I blocked some, backed away from the others, giving ground. Caldera tried a charge, head down and arms wide, the same way she’d taken me down in our first duel. I ducked around one of the pillars and Caldera bounced off the stone. ‘Not this time,’ I said.

‘How long are you going to drag this out?’ Caldera said. ‘You know damn well you’re not going to win this.’

‘Funny,’ I said. ‘I don’t remember you beating me in any of our matches.’

Caldera stared at me. ‘You actually believe that?’

I shrugged. ‘You never knocked me out.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ Caldera said. ‘I haven’t knocked you out because I don’t want to break every bone in your body.’

‘You can tell yourself that.’

Caldera attacked again. I blocked and countered, hitting her in the head and body. It felt like hitting a stone wall. My hands were already aching, while I knew that Caldera was doing just fine. Caldera charged again, and again I sent her crashing into the wall. ‘FYI, you’re losing on points,’ I told her.

Caldera turned on me, her face set. ‘You think this is a game, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’ I made my voice hard, contemptuous. No room for hesitation now. ‘It
is
a game. And you’re one of the pieces.’ I looked at her. ‘Do you even know why this is happening? Who passed this order, and why? You go where the Council tells you to go, kill who they tell you to kill.’ I paused, shook my head. ‘You aren’t even smart enough to know when you’re being used.’

Caldera stared at me, her eyes chips of dark stone, then attacked again, harder this time. I blocked and dodged, steadily giving ground. Caldera is stronger and tougher than me, but she’s not any faster than me, and by using the pillars as cover to break up her attacks I was able to keep her at a distance.

The exchange ended with us facing each other between the pillars. A car came around the roundabout and slowed slightly as it went by, a white face peering out at us through the window, then it accelerated away. ‘You are just putting off the inevitable,’ Caldera said tightly.

I felt a flash of shame for what I was about to do but pushed it down. Had to be cold. ‘You don’t understand anything about the people you work for,’ I said. ‘That’s why you’ve never been promoted, and why you never will be. You’ll always be a journeyman, while every other Keeper you’ve ever known is raised above you.’

Caldera stopped dead.

Caldera isn’t the share-your-feelings type, and for all the time we’d spent together, she’d never opened up to me. She’d never told me how many times she’d been passed over for promotion, nor how much it affected her. But if there’s one thing diviners are good at, it’s finding things out. I knew that for Caldera, her job was all she had, and I knew that she was years past the point where Keepers are usually noticed and groomed for the higher ranks. She was afraid that they didn’t think she was good enough, and that she’d be sidelined and forgotten. I’d found her weakest point and struck at it, just as I’d been taught.

‘Do you have any idea how much shit I’ve done for you?’ Caldera said. Her voice was quiet, but rage was building behind her eyes, and I knew she was right on the edge of losing control. ‘I’ve defended you to other Keepers. I’ve talked you up to Rain. I’ve bodyguarded your arse through one mission after another. But you can’t dial back that fucking ego, can you? You don’t give a shit about the law. You think the rules don’t apply to you.’

‘Actually, I—’

Caldera moved in a blur of motion. I jumped back just in time from a blow that would have broken my ribs. ‘
Shut up.
’ Caldera’s voice was a hiss. She struck at my chest, then moved in, words spilling out. ‘Always you want to show everyone else how smart you are. How tough you are. Then when it’s time to pay the bill, you get someone else to do it.’ Caldera struck again, sending a shock of pain up my arm as I blocked. ‘I could have broken you in half the first time we met. Could have done it every time you stepped in the ring. But I held back.’ Caldera struck a third time. ‘But you can’t see that, because you’re so …
fucking

full
of yourself.’

Caldera delivered another punch with each word. I managed to block each one, my guard posture exactly calculated to minimise the amount of damage I took. It still felt like being kicked by a horse. The second-to-last blow staggered me; the third one slammed me back into the wall.

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